


Paid In Full

by delphia2000



Category: Stargate SG-1
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-11-18
Updated: 2009-11-18
Packaged: 2017-10-03 06:43:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 997
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15273
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/delphia2000/pseuds/delphia2000
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written for sg_fignewton's Hammond Tribute Alphabet Fic-A-Thon<br/>Set post-season 5 of SG1, pre-season 6<br/>Many thanks to my trusty betas, tejas and sidlj!</p><p>Summary: M is for Maybourne, of course, but also for morals.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Paid In Full

"You're not Starsky."

General Hammond cocked his head a bit, the better to survey the man who spoke out of the shaded depths along the tree-lined path. "And you're no Hutch," he told Maybourne.

Maybourne moved cautiously toward him, not quite out in the open, but out of the deep shadows. His eyes shifted quickly, taking in their surroundings like a fox looking for the hounds. His clothes were just this side of shabby, his hair slightly unkempt and his beard was untrimmed. Hammond had no doubt the bulge in his left pocket was a small set of binoculars with which the hunted man had carefully watched him enter the city park where they were meeting. It was a wide public space with plenty of quiet trails to walk, just out of reach of any possible Earthly surveillance. The bulge in the right pocket would be a gun. Not quite a fox and yet, not quite a weasel either. There was an air of pathos about the man. "You're looking a little…harried," Hammond commented.

The look he got back was pure Maybourne. "I thought you left that kind of punny rhetoric to O'Neill."

Hammond barely nodded. "He's rubbed off on me a little."

"That still doesn't explain why you're here, jeopardizing your good conduct medal to consult with a traitor. What do you want, General?"

"Frank Simmons has been calling in markers from behind bars."

"I know that. I assume he's lonely and wants me for a neighbor. He's managed to get my offshore assets frozen and his dogs have taken that 'dead or alive' thing a little too seriously. So what's your stake in this? Jack tell you I could take him out for you? Sorry, he's beyond even my reach this time."

Hammond considered turning heel and walking except he recognized the acid tone as more defense than acrimony. "Simmons managed to waylay some of those funds of yours. And then they disappeared…into a numbered Swiss account."

George pulled the slip of paper from his pocket and offered it to Maybourne. "This account, as it happens. There's about $250,000 there. I'd be a bit more careful with it this time. It's going to have to make you disappear and last you a while."

Maybourne took the paper, glancing at it before shoving it into a pocket he quickly zippered shut. "What did that cost you?"

Hammond shrugged. "Just a reassignment from Siberia to Area 51."

McKay would have probably done it for Twinkies and a package of toilet paper, but Area 51 could make better use of that anti-social brilliance than the Russians. There was always Antarctica if he got out of hand again.

"Now the big one…why?"

"We owed you. I owed you. Major Carter's father and I go back a long way and she is more than one of my best. She's family. Teal'c is family too. And now, as far as I'm concerned, this debt is paid. Go away, Maybourne. Find a hole, climb in and stay there."

"I'm working on that."

Hammond nodded and let the steel in his heart reflect in his eyes and his words. "I see you again and you'll be in handcuffs before you can blink. Good-bye, Colonel."

He gave the man his title one last time to honor the soldier who had served their country in the way he thought best, however misguided. Maybourne nodded and stepped back into the shadows, disappearing almost immediately into the underbrush. A few seconds later came a quiet, "Thanks, General."

Hammond continued his stroll down the shady path, not quite ready to return to his subterranean office. The day was bright, the air fresh and that niggling weight of debt, removed. He felt good.

With any luck, they'd seen the last of Colonel Maybourne. With him would go any doubts that Hammond secretly harbored about his own morals. In a way, he could understand Maybourne. He'd stepped over the line a time or two himself, although certainly not on the same scale. It didn't take much imagination to realize he'd go further over that line under the right set of circumstances. Thank God he'd never been in that situation. Taking a leave of absence to go after his premier team on one occasion had been close enough to costing him his rank and his position, but it had been worth it many times over. As a soldier and a general, he had to consider the needs of the many over the few, but those few people--his teams--sometimes they were all that stood between the entire planet and complete destruction. Keeping them in that buffer zone served the many.

Perhaps it was questionable to have aided Maybourne, but better to give him the money than let Simmons use it for God-knew-what-level-of-evil. At one time, Maybourne had been a good soldier, one who'd been led astray by false friends who'd abandoned him when they were needed most. No wonder he'd turned feral and put his own needs above all else. He had no one protecting his six.

Hammond had dozens of good people watching his six. And blood family, besides the family of his heart. Perhaps that had been the deciding difference between him and the wreck of a man who ran in the shadows behind him.

As if to remind him, a hula hoop rolled in front of him chased by two young girls around the same ages as his granddaughters. He caught the hoop and rolled it back to them. They seized it, shouting thanks as they ran ahead of him to a young woman who waited by an ice cream cart.

A double-dipped chocolate cone seemed quite suddenly like a very good idea. Walter could take messages for another hour. Hammond reached for his wallet as he strolled in the direction of the cart. Sometimes you just had to reach out and take a little paradise for yourself for one afternoon.

The end.


End file.
